In response Nira reached out and put her hand on Ali’s chest.
Exactly where Ali had the Yanti hidden beneath her shirt.
Again, Ali felt a vastness, as if the little girl was not an empty shell, but a window into a place where there were no boundaries. Yet not a flicker of light shone in Nira’s dull eyes. She could have been the one who was dead.
The Yanti suddenly felt hot. As it had when she had healed Ted Wilson.
Another coincidence. Ali wondered what it meant.
But how could they heal Freddy? He was already dead. . . .
Ali stood. “I’ll take Nira with me,” she said.
“You’re not taking her into the morgue!” Cindy snapped.
Ali hesitated, not sure if she was trying to further her investigation of Omega and Ms. Smith, or if she was just indulging in careless behavior. She spoke to Cindy, “I’ll try to keep her from seeing anything gross.”
Cindy shook her head, angry now. Ali ignored her.
Hand in hand, Ali and Nira walked deeper into the hospital’s ER.
They never did run into Freddy’s family—which in itself was odd, Ali thought—but they bumped into plenty of nurses and doctors, and when Ali said that she was there to say goodbye to her brother, she was led to an isolated cubicle, whose windows had been curtained off. Freddy was inside, she was told by an elderly nurse, who withdrew out of sight.
Ali tried to keep Nira outside, yet the little girl refused to give up her hand. Ali could have broken the grip by force, of course, but it was as if Nira was trying to tell her that she liked her. Under Ali’s shirt, the Yanti continued to throb with waves of heat. It had never been so hot before. . . .
Together, they stepped inside the tiny room.
A weak corner lamp was the only source of light. As a result, there were more shadows than details, which Ali found particularly distressing with a dead body lying in the center of the room. He was covered, largely, but his blond hair stuck out of the top of a green sheet that was stained red, and the sight of it depressed Ali. As did the idea that their arrival in town might have caused the guy’s death. She had to fight to remind herself that she had not been driving the SUV, and that there was still a good chance it had been nothing but a horrible accident.
Hoping Nira could not see up on the bed, Ali stepped to Freddy’s side and, with her free hand, gently pulled back the sheet. The nurses had done their best to wipe away the blood, but the right side of his face was badly swollen, and a sad blue color. His eyes were closed, thankfully. He did not look at peace but he was not suffering anymore, either—and for that she was grateful.
It was as Ali had anticipated. She did not recognize him.
Nira had finally let go of her hand, but she was trying to climb up on the bed.
“Stop, you have to leave him alone,” Ali scolded, trying to get her back on the floor. But once more the girl was tough, and she was beside Freddy, and staring at his wounded face, before Ali could get a grip on her.
Yet Nira did no more than stare. She did not reach for Freddy’s hand, nor did she try to touch his bloody hair. Ali assumed the girl did not understand what she was looking at, and decided it was probably for the best.
But the Yanti under Ali’s shirt, resting on the skin above her heart, went from being hot to unbearably hot. Letting out a cry, Ali took a step back and reached under her shirt and pulled out the Yanti. The heat was like a flame. She did not even try to pull it over her head. Breaking the silk cord it was strung on, she tossed it onto the edge of the bed, near Freddy’s left arm. Even after she had let it go, she could feel the waves of heat radiating from it. Had Freddy been frozen, and not dead, they could have fixed him in a hurry.
The Yanti was a seven-sided gold band, with a gold triangle inside, which in turn had a tiny diamond in the center of it. The entire band was only two inches across. But the most remarkable thing about it was that the three pieces—the band, the triangle, and the diamond—had only space between them. Yet they were each held in place, in perfect symmetry, by an invisible force that could not be crossed. Many times she had tried to slip a needle between the pieces and had been blocked. Once, she had taken a hammer and nail from the garage and pounded away, and even that had been unable to pierce the field that cemented the medallion. She did not remember much about the Yanti from her life as a fairy, but she did recall that more than a few high fairies believed it to be indestructible.
Nira reached over and picked up the Yanti.
“Don’t! You’ll burn yourself!” Ali cried, lunging forward.
The strange girl stared at her. The heat did nothing to her flesh.
Ali froze. “Who are you?” she gasped.
As if in response, Nira placed the Yanti on her forehead, her heart, and then on the top of her head, in quick succession before she reached over and grabbed Freddy’s left hand. It might have been rigor mortis setting in, but his spine slowly arched as his head tilted back and his eyelids popped open. The pupils were rolled back; the whites of his eyes were pink, and they were staring at nothing, and always would be. . . .
Because the guy was dead. . .
Yet he was not acting like it. He should not have been acting at all! It was as if a force had entered his body, a watery snake, and it was crawling through him. As his head went back his jaw dropped and his mouth opened and a lungful of air escaped his crushed chest. Ali prayed it was nothing more than an extremely tardy death rattle, but as his final breath came out of his body, she heard a word, and it echoed in the room like a moan in the coffin of a soul who had been placed too soon in the grave.
“Shakkkkkkkk. . . traaaaaa. . .”
Ali put her hands over her ears, closed her eyes, and if she didn’t scream she should have. The ugliness of the word, the name, the horror of its source, made her want to vomit. But she gathered herself quickly, for she realized the heat radiating from the Yanti had stopped. Indeed, the room felt cold, as if the previous air had been sucked right out of it, through a crack in reality. Opening her eyes, she snatched the Yanti from Nira, who let go of Freddy’s hand. Once again, he lay still, although his eyes were still open. Moving closer, Ali reached out to shut them. It was then, under his blond hair and drying blood, that she saw the same thumbprint that Nira had between her eyebrows.
Outside, in the sun, in the park where Cindy and Steve had been waiting earlier, Ali sat on a bench with her friends and debated what she should do next. The debate was both inside and out. Rose had not returned yet. The next bus to Breakwater left in fifteen minutes. Ali needed to catch it if she were to get home in time to pack for her trip up the mountain. Earlier, after saying goodbye to Mike Havor and Omega, she had decided to go that night. But now she had to wonder what was more important. . .
Nira. The girl had a power over the Yanti Ali did not possess.
The Yanti . . . Ali had it in her pocket now.
Yet Nira was autistic. She could not speak. Cindy had bought her an ice cream cone—apparently it was her second of the day—and the girl had smeared half of it on her face. Ali worried she could examine Nira for days and learn nothing new. Yet she supposed talking to her nanny might teach her a thing or two. Where was Rose anyway? Ali still found it hard to understand why the woman had run off and left Nira with them. None of them had seen Rose at the hospital. Ali found the behavior suspicious, and said as much to the others.
“You didn’t meet her, she’s great with Nira,” Cindy said.
“As far as I can tell, she’s lost her twice in the same afternoon,” Ali said.
“I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” Steve said. “When you think about it, she’s only been gone half an hour.”
“It feels longer than that,” Ali said.
Steve checked his watch. “Thirty-five minutes since Rose left, that’s all.”
Ali gestured to Nira. “There’s something weird about this girl, beside her mental handicap. I don’t want you to hang out with her if I leave.”
“That’s
silly,” Cindy snapped. “She’s harmless.”
“If you leave?” Steve asked. “I thought that was a done deal.”
“I’m having second thoughts,” Ali muttered.
“Why? What did you learn at Omega?” Steve asked.
“As you know, the president of Omega is named Sheri Smith. From talking to one of her main employees, she sounds like the kind of person who can move mountains. She’s tough, smart, and pushes her people to exhaustion.”
“That doesn’t make her a threat to the human race,” Steve said.
“True,” Ali agreed. “But I saw a picture of her, and it was weird; she has the same eyes as Mom and me. And here she has this daughter—that no one is bothering to keep track of—who has the same hair as us.”
“What are you saying?” Steve asked.
Ali hesitated. “I don’t know, but this little girl seems to recognize the Yanti.”
The others gasped. “How do you know that?” Cindy demanded.
“I don’t think she can recognize her own mother,” Steve said.
Ali held up her hand. “I’m telling you the truth. She has some connection to the Yanti. She might even have some control over it. That’s why I don’t want you guys to hang out with her if I leave. To me, she’s a wild card.”
“Are you saying they are fairies, too?” Steve asked.
“I’m not sure what they are,” Ali said.
“What exactly did you find out at the company?” Steve asked. Ali gave them a quick rundown on her meeting with Mike Havor.
Neither Steve nor Cindy acted that impressed.
“He sounds like a nice guy,” Steve said.
Ali hesitated. “He was very appealing. But. . .”
“But what?” Steve asked.
“Nothing,” Ali said.
Cindy had Nira on her mind. “We cannot leave here until Rose comes back.”
“I have to leave here in a few minutes,” Ali said.
“If you go,” Steve said.
Ali nodded. “If I go.”
“I don’t think you should,” Steve said. “Like I said before, the e-mails to Karl were real. If you suspect this woman, Ms. Smith, is the Shaktra, I don’t see how you can justify leaving. You have to dig deeper into them, into the company, into this town. To me, this whole place is a mystery. I mean, how many towns get burned to the ground?”
Ali glanced at her watch, fretted. “I’m torn, I don’t know what to do.”
“Stay,” Steve said.
“Tell us what Nira did with the Yanti to make you suspect her,” Cindy said.
Ali regretted bringing up the girl’s strangeness. She saw now that it made them more curious about Nira. And she was aware that they felt frustrated that they could not help her more. If she left tonight, she feared they would return to Toule tomorrow and try to follow up on an investigation she probably should never have started. At least she had not told them about the wizard in the barbershop. If she had, they would no doubt race over to have Harry cut their hair. . . .
The wizard added to her conflict. The same questions plagued her. Where was he from? When he vanished, did he pop back into the elemental kingdom? Was that a Yanti around his neck? Did he show it to her to mock her?
Another question: If he was from here—Earth—was that enough reason for her to listen to Steve and postpone her trip up the mountain? Certain facts made her doubt his humanity. Besides his weird-looking eyes, he had been afraid to let her see him in the mirror.
Ali shook her head in response to Cindy’s question.
“The family’s weird,” Ali said. “They have a nanny who loses little girls, the girl herself can’t talk, and Ms. Smith sounds like a slave driver. I need you guys to promise me you’ll stay away from here until we can examine the situation together.” She added, “Trust me, I’m not trying to cut you out of the action.”
“But you are trying to protect us,” Steve said. “You’re always trying to do that. That does not help you or us. Cindy is right—we cannot leave until Rose returns. We have already made friends with her, and she is a great source of information about Ms. Smith—who might be the Shaktra if I read you right.”
“She’s not the Shaktra!” Ali snapped. “That creature is in the elemental kingdom! My mother is there, too! That is why I have to go!”
An uncomfortable silence settled between them. Finally Cindy spoke.
“Ali, you’re worried about the Shaktra and Lord Vak, and you’re anxious the elementals are going to return. But it’s your mother that haunts you. If you’re sure she’s not in this world, then you must go into the other world. We support you in that decision. That’s why you have to get on the next bus. But Steve’s right, you can’t keep treating us like children, even though we are children. You have to let us take some of the risks, and trust our judgment sometimes.”
Ali heard the truth in her friend’s words, knew in that instant that she was going to try to enter the elemental kingdom—that night. When all was said and done, she could not stop thinking about her mother.
Yet Ali did not answer Cindy right away. She studied Nira, who was still obsessed with her ice cream cone. “Why would they leave her here?” she whispered.
“Who is they?” Steve asked.
Ali looked over. “I hear you guys. You have to hear me. Nira is more than she appears. So is this Omega company. The man I spoke to there, Mike Havor, he told me that all their games are focused on the end of the world.”
“That is why they’re called Omega Overtures,” Steve said. “The end of the world sells.”
“But now the end might be at hand. . .”
“Ali. . .” Steve began.
“I don’t like this town,” Ali interrupted, standing. “Okay, I agree, you have to get Nira back to Rose, but the minute you do, catch the next bus back to Breakwater. You might get there in time to help me pack.”
“We won’t get there in time and you know it,” Cindy said. “The next bus isn’t for three hours. You will be long gone by the time we get home.”
Ali nodded. “You’re probably right.”
“How are you going to get up to the trailhead?” Steve asked. “With Farble and Paddy? You can’t take a cab like we did last time.”
“I’m going to drive my father’s truck. Not the one he hauls freight in, the smaller one. Farble can sit in the back.”
“When did you learn to drive?” Cindy asked.
“I’ve been taking the truck out late at night, trying to get the hang of it.”
“That is so cool! Why didn’t you take me with you?” Cindy asked.
“Because at first I kept running into stuff,” Ali said.
“How are you now?” Steve asked.
Ali shrugged. “I wouldn’t trust me to drive you cross-country, but I’m okay.”
“You still don’t have a license,” Steve said.
Ali checked her watch again. “Right now that’s the least of my worries. Look, call me on my cell when you’re on your way home. That will put my mind at ease. Promise not to come back here when I’m gone. That’s not too much to ask.”
Steve stood and hugged her. “You do what you have to do and we’ll do what we have to do.”
Cindy hugged her as well. “Quit worrying about us. Just find your mother and come back to us.”
Ali was near tears. She felt their love and their doubts, as well. Cindy and Steve had accepted that she was powerful, that she probably was queen of the fairies. But they had not accepted her as their leader. Ali could understand that, it was not right that she control their every move.
But it was not right that she should get them killed, either.
“Try to be wise,” she said, as she kissed them goodbye.
Turning toward the bus, Ali glanced back at Nira. The girl had finished with her ice cream and was once more staring at her. Nira was mentally impaired—she couldn’t take care of herself in the most basic ways. Nevertheless, for the third time that day, Ali felt the power of her gaze, an
d got the strangest impression that Nira knew something the rest of them did not.
Something that was yet to happen. . .
Was it possible? Nira’s brain was mush, but it seemed as if records floated around inside her skull, or simply in the air near her head, of events that were yet to happen. Of course, Ali herself had gotten glimpses of the future from time to time, of things that eventually did occur, but this was far different. Here the subject matter was life and death, and as Ali stared at Nira, she couldn’t shake the conviction that her last words to her friends had been totally in vain.
In the days to come, none of them was going to act wisely.
And one of them was not going to live long enough to talk about it.
“Not true,” Ali swore, turning away from Nira and walking toward her bus.
CHAPTER
7
How does one pack to enter another dimension? When Ali returned from Toule, she sat down to make a list of what she absolutely had to bring, and discovered, to her dismay, that she had no idea what she needed. For the last month she had questioned Paddy about where he came from, but for the most part he had answered her by saying that leprechauns went about and minded their own business. Even when it came to describing the physicality of the realm, Paddy had been vague.
“It’s hot in some places, Missy, cold in others. Lots of trees there. Some mountains, some desert, a little of everything.”
Then he had stared at her, as if to say, You’re a fairy, you should know.
One thing she had made that was going to help was a backpack for Farble, which was large enough to hold three hundred pounds. She had sewn it together using a variety of bags and belts she had purchased at an army surplus store. Farble had already tried it on—he seemed to like it. Indeed, he acted like it made him more human—or fairylike—and less trollish. To Ali, it appeared as if all trolls had lousy self-images.
Another trip to the grocery store was a necessity, and this time she had to tap into her father’s account to afford her supplies. Fortunately, they all knew her at the store and did not ask any questions. As always, Farble’s needs were costly. She ended up buying a hundred pounds of steak, and the box-boy was so concerned about the weight of her bags he insisted on driving her home. To save time, she let him but she did not let him past the front porch. Paddy had returned and he was in a bad mood, and Farble was in the bathroom trying to trim his eyebrows with a hacksaw. The troll wanted his sunglasses to fit better.
The Shaktra Page 7
